


Resolutions

by Jeanie205



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, bellarke modern au, lots of miscommunication, romcom with a little soap opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22615873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanie205/pseuds/Jeanie205
Summary: Last New Year’s Eve, things in Bellamy Blake’s orbit got all mixed up, especially where Clarke Griffin is concerned.  So this year, he’s made a resolution to straighten it all out.  Problem is, Clarke may have made a resolution of her own.  And maybe those resolutions don’t exactly jibe.  The story begins on one New Year’s Eve and ends on the next.  Most of it is told from Bellamy’s POV, until the very end, when we finally hear from Clarke.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 83
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was meant to be a one-shot, but as usual it got a little too long. (🙄) So while it’s completely written, I’ve decided to post it in four parts, probably posting every other day. It’s mostly fluff, but there may be a tiny bit of angst here and there. I apologize if the plot feels a little like a soap opera. Sometimes that’s just the way the story goes. 😊

This year, Bellamy Blake had made his resolution long before the first of January.

He knew there was some irony in that, because he’d always told everyone that New Year’s resolutions were idiotic. That if you really wanted to do something, you just... went ahead and did it. No internal promises required.

But in this particular case, that hadn’t worked at all.

He damn well knew he should have dealt with the whole thing a long time ago, and the fact that he _hadn’t_ was down to sheer cowardice. Fear of the consequences. Fear of making himself vulnerable.

Fear of getting hurt.

Problem was, the more he’d avoided it, the worse it got... and the shittier he felt.

He’d had some half-assed idea about dealing with it on _last_ New Year’s Eve. Of course, that had turned into a total fucking disaster, and he’d been trying to handle the fallout ever since.

So this year, Bellamy was taking no chances. This year he was making it a resolution, making it a promise to himself. Making it a _plan_. This year, he would finally talk to Clarke.

And then he would undo last year’s mess. If he could.

XXXXXXXXXXX

**_New Year’s Eve, one year ago..._ **

Bellamy would really like to know who the hell had decided they should ring in the new year at a fucking _dance_ club. He wasn’t fond of dancing under the best of circumstances, and _Inner Sanctum_ was a far cry from that.

First of all, it was too damn loud, the relentless bass booming out over what he could only imagine was a jillion-dollar sound system. It was also hellishly bright, with strobe lights flashing on and off in time with the music. And if that weren’t bad enough, the drinks were too fucking expensive.

Maybe they were right, he mused. Jasper and Murphy and all the others who loved telling him he was not only a decrepit old man but also a total buzzkill. But Bellamy cared about his eyes and his ears - not to mention his wallet - and as he sat at the bar nursing his second drink it felt like they were all pretty much under assault.

He was seriously considering just taking off when Clarke suddenly and unexpectedly showed up. That was all it took to change his mind.

She’d told them all she wasn’t sure she could make it, didn’t know if she’d be back from visiting her Mom for the holidays in time for their New Year’s bash. But here she was, dressed in a tight sparkly dress that shimmered under the iridescent lights and did amazing things for her body.

As soon as he saw her Bellamy knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

She waved to him, and his heart leaped when it seemed like she might be heading immediately in his direction. But when she was still several yards away, she was intercepted by Harper, who swept her into an excited hug.

“Hey, you made it!”

If Harper hadn’t practically shouted the words at Clarke, he’d never have heard them over the din of the blaring music and the shrieking partygoers. Clarke nodded, but there was far too much noise to hear her smiling reply.

They both turned toward him then, Harper’s face a study in amusement as she cocked her head at him. He could only imagine what she was telling Clarke. _The old man still hasn’t moved._

He slipped off his stool when Harper eventually left with a nod, and Clarke finally made her way to the bar.

“What are you doing just sitting here?” she asked, giving him a teasing smile.

She’d had to move very close in order to be heard over the music, and Bellamy tried hard not to react visibly when he felt her soft breath wash across his cheek.

“I’m not just sitting here,” he said, his lips nearly grazing her ear as he shifted close enough to be heard himself. “I’m also drinking.”

Clarke rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Bellamy, you can drink anytime! This is New Year’s Eve. You’re supposed to be doing something more exciting than that.”

“Yeah? And what would you suggest?” he smirked suggestively.

When her eyes widened and her expression shifted, Bellamy was sure his cheeky question had given him away. And for an instant, it seemed like they were both holding their breath.

Then she blinked rapidly and laughed, swiping playfully at his broad shoulder.

“Like _dance_! This is a dance club,” she grinned.

“Dance? Uh, dancing isn’t exactly my strong suit...”

“No one _cares_ ,” she assured him, holding out her hand. “Come on! We’ll just have fun.”

But as he looked out over the floor, at the dancers swaying together to the music, Bellamy wondered how he’d deal with Clarke’s body moving that sensually so close to his own. He’d watched her dance before, but only from a safe distance. To have her near enough to reach out and touch might be more than he could comfortably handle.

On the other hand... maybe it was exactly what he needed. What _they_ needed. To kickstart their relationship and move it to the next level. To a place where he might finally be able to tell her.

God knew nothing else seemed to be working.

But not quite yet. Bellamy figured he needed just a little more alcohol to work up the nerve to dance like that with Clarke. And to deal with whatever might happen next.

So... yeah. Good plan. He’d have a third drink, and then take her up on her offer.

“Why don’t you go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll watch a while and try to get the hang of it, then I’ll come out and, um, join you.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “You promise? Because I’ve heard that song before.”

Bellamy laughed, reaching out to wrap one of her shiny curls around his finger.

“I promise. I just need to, uh, work up to it.” _And to what I know I’m going to want to say to you once we finish dancing._

“Okay, but I’m holding you to it. Don’t think I won’t come over here and drag you away from this stool if I have to.”

“I have no doubt,” he said... mostly to himself. Because by then she’d already left his side and was gliding gracefully toward the pulsating bodies in the center of the room.

Bellamy slid back onto his stool and ordered a third drink from the barman. By the time he turned back to the dancers, he saw that Clarke had been joined by a slender sandy-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar.

He sipped his drink, trying place her, and after a while it came to him. Neelah. No, no, _Niylah_. She’d done a lot of subbing last year at the high school, and he knew she and Clarke had become friends because he’d seen them having lunch together.

He didn’t think Niylah had come to _Inner Sanctum_ with their group, but he supposed she might have. The rest of them had a table on the other side of the room, but as far as Bellamy was concerned, it had been way too near a couple of the speakers. That’s why he’d taken up residence at the bar.

As he watched Clarke and Niylah dance, it suddenly occurred to Bellamy that while he was pretty sure the women had only been friends, it now looked to him like Niylah admired Clarke in a much more... personal way.

Shit! He hadn’t expected... competition. As far as he knew, he and Clarke were currently both single for the first time ever in their multi-year friendship. That’s why he’d decided this was finally the right time say something. But maybe Clarke already had a thing going with Niylah, and he just... hadn’t heard. Or she could be thinking about it...

Bellamy tried to tell himself that Clarke and Niylah were only dancing near each other, not grinding away sensually on each other’s bodies the way some of the other dancers were. But the longer the women danced, the more uneasy he became.

So that when Clarke eyed him a few moments later, crooking her index finger and inviting him out onto the dance floor, he still... hesitated, uncertain. Decided that maybe he needed just one more shot of liquid courage.

Bellamy swallowed the last of his drink, holding up his glass to show Clarke he was ordering another. She frowned at him, standing at the edge of the swarm of dancers, and he had a vague idea that she might actually run over and object.

But if that had been her intention, she never got the chance.

Because at that very moment Bellamy was grabbed from behind, as strong hands swiveled him around on the stool. Before he could recover from that, or even begin to wonder what the hell was happening, he was being kissed. And this was no peck on the lips, no fun-loving mistletoe smack of the sort he’d experienced every Christmas holiday for years. Oh, no, this was a full-on, wet-lipped, open-mouthed smashing of mouths.

When he finally recovered his wits, pulling back in shock, he found that it wasn’t after all a stranger who’d assaulted him. Instead, he stared disconcertedly into the face of Echo Winters, the girls’ phys ed teacher at the same high school where he was history and Clarke was art.

“Told you I’d have a surprise for you tonight,” Echo said, grinning, before he could get out even a single word.

 _Had she said that?_ Bellamy conjured up a vague memory of Echo making some kind of mysterious comment about the planned New Year’s bash. But that would have been days ago, because he certainly hadn’t seen her since school let out for the winter break. And if he’d wondered about it at all, it definitely wouldn’t have been with the idea that he’d be the surprise.

When he remained silent, still searching for the right response, she only laughed and said, “Oh, come on, Bellamy! What’s the big deal? I know damn well you’re single and I’ve been wanting to do that forever. And you didn’t exactly pull away,” she reminded him with a smirk, bending as if to kiss him again.

Echo was right. He hadn’t pulled away. But that was only because he’d been so fucking stunned.

He pulled back now, though, opening his mouth to object, but before he could say a word his gaze shifted slightly, and he found himself looking past Echo’s left shoulder and right into the shocked face of Clarke Griffin. She’d stopped dancing altogether, and was simply standing stock-still amidst all the gyrating bodies.

But when he started to rise from the stool, Clarke suddenly came to life. She gave him a small wave, and a smaller smile, and quickly resumed dancing. And this time, he noted, she’d moved much, much closer to Niylah.

As he stared in dismay, the two of them began grinding against one another in earnest. And only seconds later, Clarke and Niylah were kissing, right out there on the dance floor. And it was definitely not a “friendly” kiss.

His heart sank! What the hell had just happened? To his plan? To his night? To his fucking _life_?

Echo stared down at him, blissfully unaware, still smiling.

“So are we getting a drink?” she asked cheerfully.

“Uh, sure,” he sighed, barely aware of what he was saying. But definitely feeling the need for more alcohol.

_How the hell was he going to fix this?_

He tried later, when they all finally made it back to the group table just before midnight. By then, he was pretty well plastered, and Echo was still clinging to him, while Clarke had Niylah in tow.

“Clarke,” he said, hurriedly grabbing onto her arm as she passed by. “Let me explain about... the dance...”

“Don’t be silly,” she said quickly, and from the way she was slurring her words Bellamy figured she was just about as drunk as he was. “Although I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me you were waiting for Echo.”

“No, you don’t understand...”

But by then Clarke had moved away and the countdown had begun.

“Ten... nine... eight... seven... six...”

By the time they got to “Happy New Year,” Bellamy was no longer surprised to find Echo kissing him. Nor did he have any real reason not to respond in kind.

And when, on the first day of the new year, he awoke to find Echo in his bed, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised about that either.


	2. Chapter 2

As the new year unspooled, Bellamy and Echo slipped into one of those ill-defined relationships that fall somewhere between casual dating and fuck buddies. But he didn’t kid himself that he was doing anything other than taking the path of least resistance. Echo seemed to want to continue having sex with him, and Bellamy couldn’t think of a good reason to turn her down.

The strange thing was that even though they were sleeping together _and_ worked in the same building, they rarely socialized during the school day. Or most other times, for that matter.

And that had everything to do with the fact that their friend groups didn’t exactly mesh.

The New Year’s bash, with its all-inclusive sign-up sheet in the teachers’ lounge, had been an anomaly. Day in and day out, Echo hung with the super-sporty types like Dax and Anya. They formed faculty teams and trained for marathons in their spare time. Bellamy’s quirkier pals were a whole lot more invested in being the undisputed champs of trivia night. And the only marathons they were interested in were all-day viewings of _The Godfather, Parts I, II, and III._

Not that they both didn’t give it the occasional shot. In early March, Echo asked Bellamy to sign up for the faculty softball team, but he’d only agree to making himself available as a sub.

“You’re in such great shape, Bellamy,” she told him, frowning in surprise. “You must like sports.”

He shrugged. “I like to get enough exercise, but I’m not that into team sports. And it would be a major time commitment. It’s not how I want to spend my every free hour.”

She just tried harder to talk him into it.

“Didn’t you tell me you were the pitcher for your high school baseball team? We could use a better pitcher than Dax.”

“I only played sports in high school to beef up my college applications, Echo. But the commitment was always a pain in the ass and I’m not getting locked into something like that again.”

Echo shook her head, unable to imagine being athletically gifted, yet not wanting to pursue competitive sports.

“Sometimes I don’t understand you, Bellamy,” she said finally.

He had no doubt that was true... and it seemed to go both ways.

When the city’s annual classic film festival rolled around in late April, Bellamy was surprised to hear that Echo had never seen _Casablanca_. But when he offered to take her, she just rolled her eyes and told him, “Those old movies really bore me.”

So while the sex continued, they never succeeded in really integrating into each other’s lives. As a result, their relationship was mostly confined to the bedroom, or perhaps the occasional meal.

For Bellamy, this was something of a relief. All his friends knew he had something going with Echo. It had never been in any way a secret. But he didn’t want to have to label their relationship. Or define it. It was easier to just compartmentalize his life.

Perhaps even stranger, Bellamy’s relationship with Clarke continued exactly as it had always been. They were still the best of friends, still lunch buddies and trivia partners, still texted as often as the spirit moved them. And each was still the person the other knew they could always count on.

They also shared similar tastes and values. In fact, when Echo nixed the movie idea, Bellamy asked Clarke if she wanted to accompany him to the one-night-only showing of _Casablanca_. She excitedly agreed, having never before seen it on the big screen.

Although of course she paid for her own ticket.

“Uh... Echo busy with something else tonight?” she asked off-handedly as they settled into their theater seats. Surprising him, because Clarke never brought up Echo.

“I’m... not sure. But if you mean was she too busy to see the movie, she just... wasn’t interested. Said she’d be bored.”

His next words slipped out before he could stop them.

“So what about, uh, Niylah? She got something else going on tonight, too?”

Clarke’s eyes darted away from him as she shifted in her seat, turning towards the screen just as the lights dimmed.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said vaguely. “Uh, hey, I think the movie’s starting.”

Which was no answer at all.

But then Bellamy knew Clarke’s love life was none of his business. That he should just enjoy whatever time he got to spend with her. That it was pointless to ask questions to which he might not like the answers.

XXXXXXXXXX

When school let out in June, Echo left for the summer. She’d been working on a Master’s in sports management and had been given the opportunity to study sports in the ancient world through a program that would take her to Greece and Italy for two months.

Bellamy figured Echo would be ecstatic, because he knew he would have been. But he supposed he wasn’t completely surprised to hear that she was anything but.

“I know you love all this old stuff,” she told him, sighing in resignation, “but for me it just means I’ll miss the softball playoffs and most of the marathon season.”

“Well, then, why the hell did you even apply for it?”

She shrugged. “My advisor talked me into it. I needed a course on the history of sport to finish my degree, and she said this one was the most prestigious. I never thought I’d get it, but now that I have, I’ll look stupid if I don’t go. Especially since my summer tuition payment covers almost all my expenses.”

Bellamy shook his head in disbelief. “You’d _be_ stupid if you didn’t go, Echo, and not just because of the money. Aren’t you interested in seeing the rest of the world? Especially civilizations that once ruled the whole fucking western world?”

“Not really?” she said, like it was a question she was asking herself. “Nope,” she added, more confident now in her answer. “I like staying in my own backyard. And besides,” she eyed him, “I’ll miss you. Aren’t you gonna miss me?”

At that moment, they were lying in her bed, post-coital, and Bellamy knew it would sound utterly churlish if he were to remind her that they were mostly just sleeping together. That in reality, they were barely friends.

“Of course,” he said gallantly, “but you’ll be back soon.”

When Echo looked like she might have something else to say, Bellamy slid out of bed, quickly pulling on his clothes. He reminded her that she had an early start the next morning and should finish packing.

It took him only a few minutes to dress, and then he leaned down to give her a quick kiss.

“Have a great time,” he said. “Try to appreciate it.”

Echo nodded, looking vaguely surprised by his somewhat abrupt departure. Bellamy knew he was being kind of a jerk, but his instincts warned him that Echo had another agenda. One he wouldn’t want to get into.

If he felt little more than mild envy over Echo’s departure, he had a much different reaction when he learned Clarke wouldn’t be around that summer either.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?” he said, distraught, when she dropped by to let him know she’d be leaving the next day.

“Honestly, Bellamy, it just happened. Mom and Dad thought I could... use a break. So they set up this European art tour as a surprise. They just told me yesterday.”

Bellamy sighed, thinking he should probably feel envious that Clarke had parents so wealthy they could plan a two-month trip at the drop of a hat. But he didn’t. Because Clarke deserved every good thing that happened to her.

But he was puzzled about one thing.

“Why did they think you needed something more than just the regular summer break? I thought your school year went pretty well.”

Clarke shrugged, her eyes darting away.

“Uh, you know, they’re my parents. They make a... a big deal out of... the smallest thing.”

“Well, I guess they’re allowed,” he smiled. “And this is such a great opportunity for you. But,” Bellamy swallowed hard, “I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

“Me, too,” she said, impulsively throwing her arms around him.

He and Clarke used to hug all the time, but it had been months since that had happened. So when Bellamy felt her body slide against his, he couldn’t stop himself from drawing her in, squeezing her tightly, nuzzling her neck, doing everything he could to prolong the contact.

“Clarke,” he breathed, feeling his heart speed up. But before he could even begin to process her sudden nearness she was abruptly pulling away.

“Gotta go,” she said quickly, her face flushed as she gave him a soft smile. “I still have a few other people to say goodbye to.”

“Yeah? What did... Niylah say?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “About you being gone?”

“Niylah? I haven’t told her yet but she’ll probably say the same thing you did. That it’s a great opportunity.”

Bellamy frowned in confusion. “And that’s it? Her girlfriend will be gone all summer and she’s not gonna be... upset?”

“Bellamy,” Clarke sighed, finally shrugging. “It’s not like that with Niylah and me. I’m... not her girlfriend.”

“ _What?”_

“We’re... mostly... just good friends. It’s not like with you and... Echo...”

“Clarke...”

But she interrupted him quickly, like maybe she didn’t want to hear whatever it was he might be going to say next.

“I have to go, Bellamy. I’ve got a million things to do today. I’ll text you, let you know when I get to the Louvre and the Uffizi.”

And then she was gone, and Bellamy began to miss her before his door had even closed.

He took his usual summer job doing construction, where the extra hours of daylight meant that employers were always looking for experienced temporary help. The long strenuous days kept him busy, kept him from missing Clarke more than he could bear.

From the beginning, she proved to be a good correspondent, texting him almost daily, often including snaps of the exciting places she was visiting. Every once in a while, the envy started to slither back into his head, but mostly he was just happy that Clarke was enjoying herself.

Sometimes, later in the evenings - often very late at night for Clarke - they’d talk about other things, more personal things, than art and museums. That’s when Bellamy finally got up the courage to ask about Niylah.

 _I don’t know why you thought we had this big serious relationship_ , she finally texted, after he’d probed for the third time. And maybe it was late enough at night, or she was far enough away, that she finally felt comfortable being frank. _Niylah and I were only ever having fun._

He tried to wrap his mind around it. That for nearly eight months everything he’d thought about Clarke’s personal life had been wrong. That he’d wasted all that time because he’d made assumptions that weren’t true.

And he had a feeling that Clarke might have made some of those same wrong assumptions, too.

Bellamy wrestled with the idea of texting an explanation about Echo, but somehow that felt wrong. That it was a topic that needed to be discussed in person. The whole stupid misunderstanding had been his fault. It had started with Echo kissing him on New Year’s Eve, and him being too afraid - and too stupid - to sort it out right then and there. He needed to look Clarke in the eye when he explained, to make sure she really understood.

It could wait the couple of weeks until she got home.

In contrast, and as he’d more or less expected, Echo proved not to be a good correspondent at all. Her texts and emails were infrequent to begin with and quickly petered out to perhaps one short message a week.

(Although at one point, early on, she’d tried to get him to engage in phone sex via Face Time, but Bellamy had nixed that idea. As far as he was concerned, he was not only enthusiastic but pretty damned uninhibited in the bedroom. But he drew the line at sex via technology. It just didn’t seem... private enough.)

In truth, Echo’s inability to communicate was something of a relief. He took it as a sign that after the summer break he was going to be able to back away from the whole liaison as painlessly as possible.

While he wasn’t sure of the exact date of Echo’s return, he knew almost to the hour when Clarke was due back. Bellamy had been scheduled to work that day, but as luck would have it heavy rains had shut down his construction crew. So he was home after all when he heard the knock at his door.

But when he opened it, it wasn’t Clarke who was standing in his doorway.

“Bellamy!” Echo cried, throwing herself at him enthusiastically. “I wasn’t sure you’d even be home, and since I don’t have a key...”

When she stopped talking and started kissing him instead, Bellamy was too startled to do anything but kiss her back. It took him a few seconds to pull away, to remind himself that his intention was to break it off with Echo, not jump back into it.

“Echo! You didn’t tell me you were coming by today,” he said, closing the door behind her.

“Why should I have to tell you?” she shrugged. “I just got back and of course I couldn’t wait to see you.”

They were no longer kissing, but she was still clinging to him tightly when he heard a key in the lock and watched his apartment door swing open for a second time.

“Oh!” Clarke stood frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed and startled, as she gaped at the two of them seemingly locked in an embrace. “I’m so sorry to, uh, intrude. I didn’t really think you’d be home, Bellamy. I was sure you’d be working...”

“Rain,” he said faintly, too surprised and too muddled to say another word.

“Of course!” Clarke continued brightly, her speech becoming faster and faster until soon she was racing along. “Well, uh, I was going to leave this for you...”

Bellamy suddenly noticed the bag in her hand.

“...it’s, uh, just a replica of Winged Victory that I got for you at the Louvre gift shop. I thought you’d like it and I was just going to leave it and see how long it took you to notice it. But I didn’t realize you’d be home, or that you’d have company, and I am so, so sorry for interrupting.”

Clarke stopped abruptly, gasping, like she suddenly needed to take a breath.

“There’s nothing be sorry for, Clarke,” Bellamy said, finally managing to remove Echo’s hands from his waist. “Why don’t you... come in?”

“No! I really have to get going. Here,” she said, thrusting the bag at him and backing away through the still-open doorway. She turned and began to walk quickly down the hallway.

“Wait!” he said, chasing after her. “You don’t have to leave. Echo just got here...”

“Well, then I really _am_ interrupting your reunion,” she said, her face flushing in embarrassment, as she paused in her flight.

“But... you and I get to have a reunion, too, Clarke. I wish you’d come in. Or... or maybe I could meet you later... after, uh, Echo leaves.”

“Sorry! I’m, um, meeting someone for drinks in a little while...”

“Niylah?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

She shook her head. “No, it’s... one of my mom’s old med students. Cillian. We ran into him in France and he wanted to get together when we got back. So I agreed to drinks...”

“Right now? But you just got home! And I haven’t seen you all summer...”

Bellamy knew he probably sounded idiotic, but his disappointment was so sharp that he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“We’ll see each other soon, of course,” Clarke said quickly, beginning to back away once again. “Harper’s having the whole gang over on Saturday, before school starts...”

“What’s going on, Bellamy?” Echo suddenly appeared in his doorway.

Bellamy barely heard her, but Clarke jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof.

“I gotta go, Bellamy,” she said again, and then she was racing down the hallway.

Bellamy could do nothing but watch her retreating back.

“Why does she have a key?” Echo asked as soon as they were back inside his apartment.

“What? Oh, she’s had it for a long time, ever since I moved in here.”

“But... _I_ don’t even have a key...”

Bellamy frowned at her. “Clarke is my best friend, Echo. You know that.”

“Yeah, but why does she need a key...”

“Look,” he interrupted sharply, “I don’t want to talk about Clarke or keys, so if you’ve got nothing else to say...”

“I don’t really wanna talk at all,” Echo said, smirking, and then she was wrapped around him again, kissing him hard.

And even though Bellamy knew he was using her for comfort, because he couldn’t be with Clarke - and now Clarke might have this new guy, _Cillian_ \- and though he’d known for weeks that he really needed to break it off with Echo... even after _all that,_ he still just... let it happen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are now 5 chapters in this story, all of which will be posted this week.

If Bellamy was pissed at himself for allowing himself to slide back into this _thing_ with Echo, before long he was also surprised and confused by what seemed to be Echo’s new expectations.

It first came up around the middle of September when she expressed a sudden desire to accompany him to trivia night at the bar. Bellamy told her she’d hate it, but she persisted.

He finally shrugged and said, “You’re welcome to come along if you want, but if you get bored you’ll have to get home on your own because I’m there until the bitter end.”

As he’d predicted, Echo was so bored that she Ubered home after an hour. But by then it didn’t matter, because somehow just having her there seemed to have affected the whole dynamic of the evening. And not in a good way. Especially with Clarke, who was much quieter than usual.

“So... things gettin’ serious with the marathon queen?” Murphy muttered as soon as Echo walked out the door. “I mean, she’s gettin’ a little clingy, don’t you think?”

“No!” Bellamy hissed, hoping Clarke hadn’t heard him. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should tell Echo that.”

While she never again asked to come to trivia night, Bellamy couldn’t help thinking that Murphy might have been right. Because Echo suddenly seemed to expect more from their relationship than she ever had before. More from _him_ than he’d ever agreed to. He finally called her on it one weekend in October when she kept pressing him to spend an entire Saturday helping her train for one of her athletic events. A Saturday when he already had longstanding plans with his friends.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he told her. “And I’m not sure why you’re all of a sudden pushing for all this togetherness, Echo. You knew what the deal was with us way back in January.”

“But... that was then. Things have _changed_ , Bellamy,” she said impatiently, as though this was something he surely already knew.

“Have they? When did that happen?”

“Over the summer,” she groaned, like he was being deliberately obtuse.

“The _summer_? But... I didn’t even see you all summer. You were gone.”

“Yes! I was gone... but-but you were _faithful_!”

“Faithful?” _Bellamy was beginning to feel like a parrot._

“Yeah. You said you hadn’t been with anyone since I left. Unless you were lying?”

“No, I wasn’t lying but...” He sighed, shaking his head as understanding finally dawned.

When they’d first started sleeping together, he and Echo had agreed that things between them would be casual and fun and there’d be no expectations. That they’d both be free to seek out other partners if they wanted.

But he’d then proceeded to undermine his carefully-delineated position by not _dating_ anyone else, not _sleeping_ with anyone else, and not _looking_ for anyone else. Even during the summer when she’d been away.

_Of course, none of that had had anything at all to do with Echo._

But how the hell could he explain to her that if he seemed to be _devoted_ and _faithful_ , those feelings weren’t directed at her, but at someone else entirely? That the only reason he’d never looked for a serious girlfriend was that he hadn’t found a way to get over Clarke.

Bellamy finally opted for the simplest response.

“My feelings haven’t changed, Echo. You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

Echo just rolled her eyes like he was an idiot who clearly didn’t know his own mind. “You shouldn’t be so afraid of commitment, Bellamy.”

The whole thing finally came to a head just before Thanksgiving.

“Why would you want to stay here and eat a badly-cooked meal,” Echo complained in frustration, “when you could come with me and have dinner with my family? It’s not like your sister is even around.”

She’d stopped by his apartment on her way out of town the night before the holiday, trying one last time to convince him.

Bellamy sighed. “No matter how many times you ask me that question, Echo, you’re going to get the same answer. It’s what we do. And, yeah, Octavia’s out on the West Coast this year, but the rest of us will get together, just like always. Clarke makes the turkey and it’s great.”

Echo gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. But in the end she had to accept it.

She left his apartment assuring him that, “Next year will be different.”

_Next year?_

Recalling Echo’s parting words as he drove to Harper’s the following day, Bellamy felt more than a twinge of discomfort. He knew damn well that he’d put it off for far too long. That it was grossly unfair to keep using Echo as some sort of comfort blanket to hide from his pain over Clarke. Especially now, when she’d somehow developed such unrealistic expectations, convincing herself that their relationship was going to develop into something more, when he knew damn well that was never going to happen.

Bellamy sighed. _It was past time to end it._

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, he was bracing himself for what he might find when he got to Harper’s. Like maybe Clarke having Cillian in tow. He supposed he could have just asked if she was bringing him, but stupidly, he’d been too afraid of the answer.

But when he arrived, Bellamy found Clarke in Harper’s kitchen, working on food prep. And she was very definitely alone.

“No Cillian?” he asked, his tone just as light and off-hand as he could make it

Clarke shook her head, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes as she focused on chopping carrots. “We don’t have that kind of relationship, Bellamy.”

“That kind...?”

She shrugged. “The kind where I’d bring him to a holiday dinner. But...” she turned slightly, looking past his shoulder, “where’s Echo? Is she in the other room?”

“Echo’s having Thanksgiving with her family.”

Her brow wrinkled in surprise. “And she didn’t invite you?”

“She did. But... I declined. I’m not interested in having that kind of relationship with her, either.”

Clarke frowned slightly as she resumed chopping. “Are you sure? Because the last time I saw you together, she seemed... pretty attached.”

Bellamy sighed. “I don’t know if she is or she isn’t. The point is... I’m not.”

Clarke turned, searching his face carefully before she spoke again

“Bellamy, you’ve been together a long time...”

He interrupted quickly, needing desperately for her to listen. “Clarke, Echo and I... we’ve never been together the way you’re thinking. Look, I’ve wanted to explain so many times...”

She shifted away again. “I don’t think this is a good time for that kind of discussion, Bellamy. They’re all going to be here any minute.”

“Then... let me drive you home tonight. We can talk then.”

Clarke hesitated, finally nodding. “Okay,” she said quietly.

The company was good and the food was great, just like all their other group Thanksgivings. But Bellamy was so on edge that he could hardly enjoy it. All he could think about was finally getting to explain himself to Clarke. And wondering if it would make any difference to her at all.

Every once in a while he’d catch her eyes on him, but then she always turned quickly away. He was damned if he could figure out what was going on inside her head.

Clarke had promised Harper she’d help with the cleanup, so they were among the last to leave. By the time they finally said their goodbyes, Bellamy was so jumpy he could hardly sit still.

As they drove through the chilly November night, Bellamy searched for exactly the right words that would make Clarke understand. And that wouldn’t make him seem like a complete asshole. When he got to her place, he pulled into the lot and looked at her uncertainly.

“Can I come inside so we can talk?”

Clarke hesitated, finally shrugging.

“Feels like your heater’s working okay. Why don’t we just talk right here.”

Somehow Bellamy wasn’t surprised. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been inside her place. He could barely remember the last time he’d had even five minutes alone with her.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I just wanted to explain to you that, uh, Echo and I were never... uh, that is, it’s never been... um, any kind of serious relationship.”

“So... what? All this time you’ve just been sleeping together?”

“Well... yeah.”

Bellamy squirmed in embarrassment, even though he knew Clarke wasn’t judging him.

“And... Echo would say the same thing?”

“Yes. That was our agreement right from the start.”

“But it’s been a long time, Bellamy. And... sometimes agreements like that change.”

“Well, they haven‘t for me. Even if Echo...”

“Even if Echo... _what?_ Because when I saw her at your apartment, and at the bar on trivia night, it looked to me like she was really... into you. And she did invite you for Thanksgiving with her family.”

“What are you getting at, Clarke?”

“That... maybe there really is more to it than you think...”

Bellamy shoved his hands through his hair in frustration.

“If it is, it’s only on _her_ part. I just... I don’t feel that way about her. How could I, when...”

“When?” Her one-word prompt was so faint he could barely hear it.

But... _fuck!_ He couldn’t tell her like this. Couldn’t declare his feelings for her before he’d completely detached himself from Echo. It just didn’t feel right.

She’d have to trust him.

“I just need you to believe that I’ve never had those kinds of feelings for Echo.”

“Okay,” she said softly, “so then what’re you gonna do about it? Considering that now she might be seeing it as... more.”

Bellamy sighed. “I know I have to break it off with her. Just as soon as I get the chance.”

She nodded. “If that’s how you feel, that’s probably the right thing to do. Otherwise...”

“Otherwise?” He frowned.

“Otherwise... don’t. Just be sure you know what you really want.”

Bellamy took a deep breath, working hard to bottle up his feelings for just a little longer.

“I do know, Clarke,” he said softly. “What it is I really want.”

Clarke was quiet as she studied his face.

“Good,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let me know when you’ve sorted it all out.”

Bellamy nodded. And knew he’d have to be content with that.

XXXXXXXXXX

While it was Bellamy’s firm intention to confront Echo as soon as she got back from visiting her family, in this he was continually thwarted. First there was the field hockey team, and Echo’s girls were in the playoffs for the first time in years. Then there was her coursework as she finished up the final semester on her Master’s.

Soon it was the middle of December and they still hadn’t talked.

“You know, if you’re really that desperate to see me,” Echo told him, sounding amused, “I can probably fit in a booty call when I get back from the game. Course it might be a little late.”

“No, no,” he said hurriedly, knowing she was still at school and hoping no one was around to hear her end of their phone conversation. “That’s not it at all. We just... really need to have, um, I mean I really want to talk to you.”

Dammit! Bellamy hoped that didn’t sound too ominous.

But, no! That wasn’t how Echo took his words at all.

“Oh?” she said archly, lowering her voice to a purr. “That sounds intriguing. But between my team and my grad courses, I’m going to be out straight for a while.”

Bellamy sighed in frustration. _A while_ felt like an eternity, because until he talked to Echo he knew he couldn’t confess his feelings to Clarke. But he also knew he owed it to Echo to take his time and not just hurriedly blow her off with a two-minute conversation.

“Why don’t I come to your place the day school lets out?” she finally suggested. “Everything’ll be over by then and we can really, uh, _take_ _our time._ And maybe I can even talk you into coming home with me for Christmas. Or... I could use other methods of persuasion besides words.”

Bellamy groaned inwardly as her tone reached new heights of suggestiveness. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that she obviously had no idea what was coming. Should it be relief... or guilt?

“Sure,” he said. “We can exchange Christmas presents then, too. I, uh, really hope you’ll like yours.”

“I’m sure I will,” she said, and he was startled to hear what almost sounded like a giggle.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you on the 22nd.”

Bellamy loved teaching, but by the time school let out for the winter break he could feel nothing but relief. The past few weeks had felt like the longest of his life. He’d seen Clarke, of course. Every single workday. And often on the weekends as their friend group swung into holiday party mode.

But by some sort of unspoken but mutually-understood agreement, they avoided any one-on-one time.

Still, something about their behavior must have seemed odd, because it provoked the ever-observant, ever-intrusive Murphy to pull him aside one night and poke his nose right into Bellamy’s life.

“What the fuck is going on with you and Clarke? You in the middle of some kind of feud the rest of us don’t know about?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bellamy snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“You come into a room... Clarke leaves it. You sit on one side of the table, she sits on the other. You two used to be practically joined at the hip. So what the hell gives?”

“Just leave it, Murphy!”

But he might just as well ask water not to be wet. Murphy continued to poke and prod.

“Unless...” a light flickered suddenly in Murphy’s eyes, “it’s the opposite. Are you two havin’ a thing and somehow forgot to tell the rest of us?”

Bellamy groaned. “Will you just shut the fuck up!” he hissed, mere inches from Murphy’s face.

But something in his own face must have told Murphy he was near the mark.

“Look, Bellamy, dude... you’re a fuckin’ mess. Try to straighten out your love life, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for the advice,” he muttered to Murphy’s retreating back.

_If only he could._

By the time the last day of school rolled around, he was more than ready to get it all over with.

Bellamy wasn‘t sure how to prepare for his talk with Echo, so he just bought a bottle of some wine he knew she liked and crossed his fingers. Later, when she arrived, he considered that perhaps that hadn’t been the best of ideas, since the first thing she said when she spotted the bottle and glasses was, “Oh, are we celebrating?”

“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “Two weeks off from work. That’s always worth celebrating.”

“Oh, I thought you might have had something a little more... personal... in mind,” she smirked. “But, go ahead. Pour me a glass.”

Bellamy poured them both a glass of the Cabernet. He didn’t usually choose wine, but hell, he definitely felt like he needed some fortification.

He took a sip and then cleared his throat noisily.

“So, Echo, the reason I’ve been wanting to talk to you...”

“Do we have to have the talk now?” she asked, clearly disgruntled. “Can’t we leave that until later and do more... interesting things first. After all, it’s been weeks.”

She tried to slide onto his lap, but Bellamy moved away quickly.

“How about opening your Christmas present?”

“Yeah? Now that sounds like a good idea,” she smiled, eagerly falling in with this plan.

Bellamy got up and retrieved the small, carefully-wrapped package from where he’d placed it on the top of his bookshelf.

“Here,” he said, “I hope you like it. Merry Christmas.”

Great, he thought, I really am an asshole. Give the woman a nice gift and then break it off with her five minutes later. He sighed softly because it really couldn’t be helped.

Echo stared at the box for so long that Bellamy wondered what the hell was going on.

“Aren’t you gonna open it?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “I just want to be able remember this moment.”

Bellamy couldn’t help thinking that he doubted she’d want to remember anything about this visit.

Finally, she began to tear at the paper, and the first small frown appeared as soon as she saw the box. A frown that only deepened when she opened it and looked inside.

“What the hell is this?” Her tone was harsh.

Bellamy blinked in surprise. “What do you mean? It’s a Fitbit. You told me you lost yours, and I figured you’d really like a new one. I’m not sure if it’s the same one you had, but you can exchange it, I think...”

He’d bought her a top-of-the-line model, figuring if she was going to get some unwelcome news, she should at least get a decent gift.

But Echo didn’t look at all pleased with her high-end Fitbit. In fact, she looked like she was about ready to spit nails.

“This is what you got me for Christmas, Bellamy? A _Fitbit?”_

He couldn’t understand why she was so angry.

“Echo...”

“So... what was it you wanted to talk to me about, anyway?” she asked, suddenly shifting gears.

Bellamy took a deep breath. Would it be easier or harder to break it off now that she was already - mysteriously - angry about her gift?

“Uh, it’s about us. Our... relationship. Lately, it’s seemed to me like you’ve wanted... more from me. I haven’t felt right about that...”

“Bellamy,” she interrupted quickly, “it’s fine. We just haven’t had much chance to see each other lately. We’ll be back on track soon...”

“No, that’s... not what I meant. It’s nothing to do with how much we’ve seen each other...”

“Of course it is! If you’d just come home with me for Christmas like I asked...”

Bellamy began to feel like he was talking to a wall. Or like they were having two different conversations. Suddenly, he just wanted it over with.

“We need to stop seeing each other,” he said abruptly, breaking into her renewed Christmas invite.

“Wh-what? You don’t mean that! Whatever is wrong, we can fix it...”

“Nothing is wrong, Echo, so there’s nothing to fix.”

He took a deep breath and plowed ahead.

“Last January, we agreed to just... have some fun. Keep it very casual. And... maybe the whole thing wasn’t such a good idea because we work together, but it seemed to be working out okay. And then you came back in September, and after that it seemed like you expected something more from me. Something I can’t give you.”

“Of course you can give it to me! You just have to get past your fear of commitment and admit your feelings...”

“I don’t have a fear of commitment! And... I don’t have feelings for you. At least... not that kind...”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and then Echo’s face twisted into a puzzled frown.

“What are you _talking_ about, Bellamy? You waited for me,” she insisted, her tone both determined and petulant. “You waited all summer.”

Bellamy sighed, hating himself for having to be so cruelly direct. “If I didn’t go looking for someone to date last summer,” he told her as gently as possible, “it wasn’t because I was waiting for you. It didn’t have anything to do with you at all.”

“Then... what did it have to do with?” she demanded.

Bellamy paused. He certainly wasn’t going to tell Echo how he felt about Clarke.

“What does it matter?” he finally said quietly. “I know this is all my fault, Echo. I should have broken off this... whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing... months ago, when I realized you thought it was more. But I put it off. And I’m sorry about that. You have every right to be pissed.”

“And so... this is all the explanation I get? Fuck! Yeah, I’m pissed, Bellamy. I also think you’re a complete asshole. I mean, who gives their girlfriend of a year a Fitbit for Christmas? Instead of... something else. And then breaks up with her!”

Bellamy knew he could have said... _But you’re not my girlfriend. You’ve never been my girlfriend. I never said I had feelings for you. And this isn’t that kind of breakup._

But really, what was the point? Why be any crueler than he’d already had to be?

“I’m sorry,” he said again. It was really all he _could_ say.

Echo stood abruptly, jerking on her coat. She paused for a moment, staring down at the pricey Fitbit, still in its box on his coffee table, before bending over and scooping it up.

“I’d like to fling this in your face,” she told him, biting off the words, “but why the hell shouldn’t I keep it!”

“You _should_ keep it,” he said softly, also rising. “I hope you get a lot of use out of it.”

Echo stared at him for a moment, her face a mask.

“Fuck you,” she said finally, before flinging herself out the door.

Bellamy sat heavily, glad it was over. And feeling every bit the asshole Echo had made him out to be.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bellamy made himself wait a day before he tried to get in touch with Clarke, but when he finally gave in to the need to hear her voice every one of his calls went straight to voice mail. Then, when she didn’t call back, he was sure it must be just... part of their agreement. That they wouldn’t really _talk_ until he’d broken it off with Echo.

He supposed he could text her, let her know he’d had that conversation with Echo, but somehow that didn’t feel right. He needed to tell Clarke the whole story, and he had to do it in person. But he knew she was visiting her family for the holidays, just like always.

So he told himself to have patience. To sit tight. To wait.

But it was damn hard.

With Octavia not around, he’d have preferred just hunkering down in his apartment for the holiday, but Monty and Harper had invited him for Christmas dinner, their first since they’d moved in together. Bellamy figured he ought to at least show up.

“No, but I expect her for our New Year’s party,” Harper told him, when he casually asked if she’d heard from Clarke. “She sure as hell better show up. She’s the one who convinced us to have the party and she promised to help.”

“Hey, anything’s gotta be better than last year at that dance club,” Monty groaned, shaking his head at the memory. “Even hosting a party.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but agree. Last New Year’s Eve had been a disaster in every possible way.

He left a few hours later, secure in the knowledge that his waiting was almost at an end. Clarke would be back for New Year’s and he was damned if he was letting anything stand in the way of their having that long overdue conversation.

By the time he made the return trip to Harper and Monty’s on the 31st of December, Bellamy was practically quivering with anticipation. The previous week had felt never-ending, and all he wanted was to find Clarke and drag her off to someplace private enough for a serious talk. Somewhere he could be sure they wouldn’t be interrupted.

She hadn’t yet arrived when he got to the party, but he knew he was early. He’d been way too keyed up to just wait calmly at home. But he forced himself to be patient and interact with his friends, all the while drinking very little and never losing his focus. But as the partygoers came and went, and Clarke still failed to show, Bellamy began to feel vaguely uneasy.

When there was still no sign of her by 11, he cornered Harper as she was refilling the snack bowls in the kitchen.

“Clarke’s kinda late, isn’t she?” he said, striving to keep the agitation he felt from bleeding into his tone. “I thought you said she’d promised to help you.”

Harper turned from her task, frowning. “She _was_ here, Bellamy. She came to help this afternoon. But then she said she didn’t feel well and couldn’t stay for the party...”

“ _What?”_

“Yeah, I guess I thought you probably knew. Oh, wait,” her face wrinkled in distress, “I forgot. She did tell me to wish you happiness.”

Bellamy was utterly confused. “You mean... she told you to wish me a... _Happy New Year?”_

Harper shook her head. “No, no, she definitely said _happiness_. I’m sorry, Bellamy, I meant to tell you that earlier but then I just got so busy...”

Bellamy brushed her apology aside, mostly because he simply didn’t want to waste time on it.

“So where is she now?” he asked, his mind whirling, his patience at the breaking point.

“Well... I suppose she’s at home. At least that’s where she said she was going...”

He didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Within minutes, Bellamy was out the door and in his car, headed toward Clarke’s apartment. It looked like something had gone wrong yet again, but he really couldn’t imagine what.

But this time he wasn’t going to sit around and do fuck all about it.

This year, Bellamy was going to act.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, finally, we hear from Clarke.

**_New Year’s Eve, this year..._ **

Over the years, Clarke Griffin had made plenty of New Year’s resolutions. Of course, they’d mostly been about eating healthier, or getting more exercise. Or even, maybe, organizing her time better so she wouldn’t feel like she was constantly racing around playing catch-up.

But this year’s resolution was different. This one was about trying to save herself from more pain and hurt, even though she knew it was probably already way too late for that. Nevertheless, she was determined to try.

Because this year, Clarke had made a resolution to finally, _finally_ get over Bellamy Blake.

Until a year ago she hadn’t even realized it was a problem. Hadn’t understood how she felt about him at all. Hadn’t had the tiniest inkling why she’d rushed back from her mom’s for the gang’s New Year’s bash.

Until she’d walked into the dance club and found Bellamy sitting on that barstool, looking both incredibly hot... and endearingly out of place.

Her heart had warmed at the sight of him, while her stomach had unexpectedly begun turning somersaults. She’d suddenly wanted nothing more than for her best friend in the world to dance with her, and had been both amazed and delighted when he’d agreed.

Her entire body had quivered with anticipation as she surreptitiously watched him finish his drink while she danced next to Niylah. There’d been that slight pang of disappointment when he’d put her off for a bit, ordering another drink, but she’d figured she could wait a few more minutes.

And then she’d looked back a moment later and seen him kissing Echo Winters.

The blow had been gut-wrenching.

Somehow her good friend Niylah had known she needed a cover that evening and had provided it. While Clarke drank and drank, and tried to figure out why she hadn’t known about Bellamy and Echo.

After that night, she’d shoved down her disappointment, determined to at least keep Bellamy as the same good friend he’d always been. And for the most part she’d succeeded. If she enjoyed her moments alone with him a little too much, like their one-on-one trip to see _Casablanca_ , well... that was _her_ problem.

When the summer came, in many ways her parents’ surprise trip was a relief from the constant need to hide her feelings from Bellamy. Of course she’d still missed him like hell.

But then, amazingly, they’d somehow become devoted correspondents, often texting several times a day. There was such a quiet intimacy about some of their late-night conversations that she’d found herself confessing that she and Niylah had never had any kind of serious relationship.

Mostly because hope had begun to bloom in her heart that the Echo thing was over, that something might finally happen with Bellamy. And she understood that nothing ever would if he thought she was into someone else.

So she’d let that longing blossom inside her... only to be massively disappointed when she returned and found that things weren’t like she’d hoped at all.

Opening the door to what she’d been certain was Bellamy’s empty apartment, only to find him locked in an embrace with Echo, had been one of the most devastating, not to say mortifying, moments of Clarke’s life.

Bellamy had tried to be kind, of course. Rushing after her, inviting her in. But she’d known he was just being polite. Just trying to make her feel better.

After that she’d struggled even more, because the genie was truly out of the bottle. She’d recognized the strength of her feelings for him, acknowledged them to herself, and even begun to hope they might be returned. Only to be brought back to Earth with a sickening jolt.

For Clarke, the situation that fall became more difficult than ever.

And then had come her Thanksgiving conversation with Bellamy. The one he’d insisted on having. Where her heart had thumped wildly the whole time they were talking, because although he’d never actually said so, it sounded like maybe, against all the odds, he had those kinds of feelings for her after all.

But she knew her heart couldn’t stand another blow. So until she heard that he and Echo were officially over, Clarke wasn’t going to let herself listen, or respond.

Or, she’d cautioned herself constantly, hope.

But of course she _had_ hoped, every damn day for more than three weeks. Completely unable to curb the stubborn yearning of her wayward heart. Only to learn in the end that she should have listened to her head after all.

So here it was, New Year’s Eve again, and she was alone. Making her quiet but determined resolution.

Clarke knew she was being a coward. That she should have just sucked it up and gone to Harper’s party. In fact, she’d spent the entire Christmas visit with her parents quietly psyching herself to do exactly that.

But in the end her courage had failed her.

If she hadn’t been so miserable, she figured she’d really have had to laugh at the irony. Hadn’t she advised Bellamy not to be too hasty? That he should make absolutely certain that Echo wasn’t what... _who_... he wanted before breaking it off with her? And apparently, he’d followed her advice, taken another look, and... changed his mind!

Clarke supposed she should be grateful that at least she’d had some warning. She shuddered to think how much worse it could have been if she’d walked into the New Year’s party and been totally blindsided.

But still, she knew that as Bellamy’s friend she should have had the guts to show up, and the decency to wish him well.

Or at least that’s what she’d been telling herself for the past nine days.

XXXXXXXXXX

**_December 22, the last day of school before the winter break..._ **

_On most days, Clarke’s regularly-scheduled break was third period. Except for Fridays, when it was fifth. Never, ever fourth. But today, the junior class advisors had decided to schedule a class meeting during fourth period, on the grounds that the kids’ heads had already left on vacation anyway._

_So Clarke found herself unexpectedly free for the next 47 minutes._

_She’d never spent much time in the teachers’ lounge, but her supplies were already mostly packed away for the break and the thought of hot tea was appealing. She’d no more than taken a sip when Echo Winters walked in, stopping short when she saw Clarke sitting in the otherwise empty room._

_“I didn’t know you had this period off,” Echo said sharply, as though somehow it was information she_ should _have had. She eyed Clarke’s tea doubtfully before moving to the coffee urn to fill her mug._

“ _Uh_ , _it’s usually not...” Clarke said, wondering how the hell she could gracefully leave. Echo was just about the last person she’d expected - or wanted - to see._

_But it wasn’t to be. Not only could she not escape the room, she apparently couldn’t even avoid Echo, who eyed her coolly before carrying her coffee mug to Clarke’s table, pulling out a chair, and plopping down across from her._

_Clarke was taken aback when Echo began peppering her with personal questions._

_“So... what are you doing during the break? Do you have any special plans for the holidays?”_

_“Uh, no, not really,” Clarke replied, trying to hide her surprise. “I usually visit my parents. They kind of expect it and I don’t get to see them that much during the school year so...”_

_Echo nodded. “Yeah, me, too.” Then her expression turned suddenly sour. “Not that I enjoy hearing over and over about my brother Roan’s latest business exploits. He usually spends the whole vacation rubbing it in my face that he’s more successful than me.”_

_When she smiled suddenly, Clarke thought to herself that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually seen Echo smile._

_“But this year,” Echo said, her smile turning sly, “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have news that’ll upstage anything he’s done.”_

_“Oh?” Clarke murmured politely, lifting her cup to her lips and wondering why she’d suddenly become the repository for Echo’s confidences._

“ _Yep!” She smirked at Clarke as she wiggled her left hand in front of her. “Pretty sure that by the end of today, I’m going to have something... shiny and new on this finger.”_

_Clarke stilled, her whole body suddenly feeling like it had slowed to a crawl. And that every system was in imminent danger of grinding to a halt._

_“What?” She carefully lowered her cup onto the table. “I mean... who are you talking about?”_

_Echo frowned, her eyes narrowing at Clarke._

_“What do you mean_ who _? You know I’ve been seeing Bellamy.”_

“ _Oh,” Clarke’s heart began to pound as Echo’s implication fully registered. “So has he, uh,” she swallowed heavily, trying hard to keep her wits about her, “said something to make you think that?”_

_“A woman just knows,” Echo assured her confidently. “I’ve been so super busy that we’ve barely been able to connect for the past couple of weeks. But he’s called so many times that I know he misses me as much as I’ve missed him. But I had my last final yesterday, and tonight we’re finally gonna get to spend some quality time together.”_

_Clarke felt the bile rising in her throat when Echo’s smile became a smirk._

_“But still... how can you be so sure?” She couldn’t seem to keep herself from asking the question._

_Echo dismissed Clarke’s query with a wave of her hand._

_“Look, Clarke, I know you think you’re the expert on Bellamy because you’re his...uh ‘best friend’.” Clarke could practically hear the air quotes in her tone. “But I’m his girlfriend. So I think I know what’s going on with us better than you. Besides,” she added with a shrug, “he keeps talking about how much I’m gonna love his Christmas present. And really, after a whole year, what else could that mean? Not that I’m expecting anything too fancy. He’s only a teacher. But no matter what, I know my family’s gonna love him...”_

_Echo rattled on, but Clarke was no longer listening. She rose on wooden legs, carefully carrying her cup to the sink and rinsing it out, struggling to regain her composure. Only then did she turn back towards Echo._

“ _Merry Christmas, Echo,” Clarke said, feeling as though she might throw up at any moment. “I hope that... everything works out for you.”_

_“Oh, it will,” Echo said breezily, her expression of smug self-satisfaction following Clarke out the door._

_Clarke forced herself not to think about Echo’s words for the rest of the school day. Not to speculate on them as she drove back to her apartment. And not to wonder if they could possibly be true as she hurriedly packed for her trip to her parents’ house._

_Not to consider them at all, in fact, as she drove the few hours that were required to take her “home for the holidays.”_

_But when her mother took one look at her and immediately asked, “Clarke, what’s wrong?”, it was all she could do not to burst into tears._

_Later, in the quiet comfort of her childhood room, she finally let the tears come, looking for some relief from the empty achy feeling that had clung to her like a burr for nearly twelve hours. She glanced once again at her phone, but there were no messages from Bellamy. She told herself that if he’d really broken it off with Echo, surely he’d have let her know by now._

_Only then did she force herself to consider the very real possibility - perhaps even the probability - that the situation was exactly as Echo had described. That Bellamy had taken Clarke’s words to heart, had reconsidered, and that he and Echo were even now engaged._

_Clarke turned off her phone, because suddenly she just didn’t want to know._

XXXXXXXXXX

It took Clarke the entire Christmas break to sort it all through in her head. The feelings... and the disappointment. And when she was done, she was resolved that she would be clear-headed enough to calmly accept the inevitable.

It was, after all, the right time of year for resolutions.

And she would damn well succeed in getting over her feelings for Bellamy.

_She would._


	5. Chapter 5

_**New Year’s Eve, this year...** _

When Clarke returned to her apartment on the 31st and finally turned on her phone, she wasn’t surprised to find that she had a slew of missed calls, some of them even from Bellamy. But while many of her friends had left voicemails or texts, Bellamy had left no word at all to let her know exactly what had been happening in his life.

For Clarke, his very silence spoke volumes.

She dragged herself to Harper’s, and all afternoon as she helped cook and decorate and set up for the party, Clarke wanted desperately to ask her friend about Bellamy. But she couldn’t make herself do it. If Harper knew something, it wouldn’t be fair to put her on the spot like that. And if she didn’t know, then... why give herself away?

So instead, she told herself that she’d be... just fine, no matter what.

And until the very last second she actually believed it. Until the moment arrived for her stop working, jump into Harper’s shower, and dress herself in the party clothes that were sitting in the carryall she’d brought.

That’s when she knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“What are you doing?” Harper asked, frowning, when she saw Clarke slip on her coat.

“I’m sorry, Harp. I just... I feel like crap. Gotta go home.”

“Oh, no!” Harper’s voice filled with concern. “After you spent all day helping me. Why don’t you just, I don’t know, take a nap or something? You can use our room...”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna help,” Clarke said hurriedly, suddenly desperate to get away. “Can you, um, tell everyone I said Happy New Year?”

“Of course,” Harper nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow, see how you’re doing, but if you need anything...”

“Yeah, I know, thanks,” Clarke interrupted quickly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

She was already gripping the knob, the door already clicking open, when she forced herself to turn and leave one final message.

“Harper, will you tell Bellamy that I... wish him happiness?”

Harper’s brow furrowed and she hesitated before finally nodding again. “Yeah, um, sure.”

Clarke figured it was pointless to explain. If Harper didn’t understand her message now, she would soon enough.

XXXXXXXXXX

She stopped and picked up a pizza on the way home, but then didn’t feel much like eating it. Instead, she lay on her sofa, vaguely marathoning an Iron Chef countdown, willing herself to think only about her own firm resolution. After several hours of non-stop viewing, her lids felt heavy, her eyes began to droop, and she drifted off.

So when the doorbell rang awhile later she awoke with a start, and for one uncomfortable second, even though she was lying on her own couch in her own living room, Clarke was totally disoriented. She rarely napped, because short bursts of sleep often left her mind in a fog and her body lethargic.

It wasn’t until the bell rang again, this time accompanied by sharp raps on the door, that she became fully awake, fully aware.

She glanced at the clock. 11:20.

_Who the hell...?_

“Clarke, are you in there? Your car’s outside so I’m getting a little worried.”

 _Bellamy_ was at her door?

She bounced off the couch, flying across the room and wrenching the door open with a jerk.

“Bellamy? What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh, came to make sure you were okay. Harper said you were sick.”

Her mind went blank for an instant before she recalled her excuse for not staying at the party.

“Are you... alone?” she asked, peering behind him.

Bellamy’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, sure. I didn’t think I needed a sidekick to check up on you.” When she still failed to move, he said, “So... can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

“Of course.” Her mind was whirling as she closed the door behind him.

It was the first time since Thanksgiving that she’d been alone with Bellamy, the first time she’d had even a glimpse of him since school let out. Clarke had to ruthlessly suppress the buzz that coursed through her body at just the sight of him. Had to remind herself to remain firm in her resolution.

She watched as Bellamy glanced around the room, trying to decipher the curious expression on his face as he took in the gelatinous pizza and the quilt she’d had wrapped around herself, now tossed carelessly onto the floor. The Food Network program that was still playing on the TV.

She couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing there.

“So... what’s wrong?” he finally asked after a moment. “Do you have a fever?”

She shook her head lightly as things finally began to make sense. It was _just_ like Bellamy to worry about her health and then feel obliged to check up on her. She wished she’d given Harper some excuse other than illness.

“Nothing like that. I was just, um, a little worn out, I guess.”

“Worn out? At the tail end of a long break that you spent with your parents?” Bellamy frowned. “Clarke, what the hell is going on with you?”

Alarm began to seep into her bones. She could hardly tell him the truth. Her spine stiffened as she decided to simply ignore the question.

“Look, Bellamy, you don’t have to babysit me on New Year’s Eve. You’ve checked. I’m okay. So now you can, uh... get back to your regularly scheduled life.”

“What the fuck does _that_ mean?”

“It means you can resume your evening! It’s almost midnight, so you should stop worrying about me and just... do your own thing.”

Bellamy’s sudden appearance had been so unnerving that Clarke was barely holding it together. But she worked hard to make sure that her calm smile was firmly in place, and her voice clipped and direct.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, hesitating, then finally shrugged and turned toward the door. Clarke watched Bellamy’s slow progress across the room with a mixture of relief and disappointment. With his hand turning the knob, and the door beginning to open, she gathered herself for one final effort to give him a civil goodbye.

“So have a nice New...”

She never got to finish it. The door closed with a hard _clack_ , as Bellamy pivoted suddenly, squaring his shoulders, his expression hard and determined.

“Goddammit!” He shook his head. “I’m just... I’m not leaving it like this, Clarke. Not again. Sorry, but it’s my New Year’s resolution.”

Wait! _Bellamy_ had made a resolution? Which was what? To be her nursemaid?

“Look, Bellamy, I’m fine. Really. You should go be with... the person you want to spend New Year’s with.”

He stared at her like she’d suddenly grown a second head.

“What the hell are you taking about? I _am_ with the person I want to spend New Year’s with.”

Clarke gaped at him. _But what about..._

“What about... Echo?”

Bellamy frowned. “What about her? Didn’t you and I have a talk about how I needed to break that off? And I _did_ that.” He huffed in exasperation. “Which I’d have already told you if you’d even once answered your damn phone. Or maybe called me back. Instead, all I got was radio silence.”

Clarke’s mind was reeling as she struggled to wrap her head around this information.

_Bellamy had broken it off with Echo?_

“So... you’re not engaged?”

“ _What?!_ Fuck, no! Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“I, uh... from _Echo?_ On the last day of school...”

“Clarke.” Two long strides and he was suddenly right in front of her. “I promise you I broke it off with her that night. If Echo had expected something different from me, she got that idea into her head all on her own. Not from anything I ever said or did.”

Clarke blinked, her perceptions splintering as she tried to rearrange everything she thought she knew into an entirely different picture.

“So... you’re not with Echo in any way?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Bellamy said, his voice filled with quiet exasperation.

Then he heaved a sigh.

“Look, can we sit and have an actual conversation?”

“Okay,” Clarke nodded, stumbling back towards the couch, Bellamy trailing after her.

“So then... what was your New Year’s resolution?” she couldn’t help asking as soon as he was seated.

“I promised myself I was going to fix everything that got screwed up last New Year’s. That I wasn’t letting that happen again.”

Clarke felt her pulse quicken. _What on Earth was he talking about?_

“What... what got screwed up last year?”

He hesitated only an instant before reaching out to grab her hands from where they sat idly in her lap.

“Clarke, as soon as I saw you in that damn club, I knew I had to tell you...“

He took a quick breath, his gaze falling to where his large hands enveloped her much smaller ones.

“Bellamy?” she prompted, desperately needing him to continue. “You had to tell me... what?”

When he finally looked up, his lips were twisted into a small awkward smile.

“How I felt about you. How I’d felt about you for a long time.”

Her quickening pulse had now begun to gallop.

Bellamy shrugged, shaking his head. “But I figured I’d have to work up to it because I wasn’t sure what you’d say. And... then you asked me to dance and I didn’t know how I could handle being that close to you. So I thought maybe just one more drink...”

As she listened, her heart beating wildly, Clarke began to consider the possibility that everything that’d happened that night exactly one year ago may not have been as it’d seemed.

_Except for one thing._

“But... _Echo?_ I looked over and... Bellamy, you were kissing her!”

“Fuck! _She_ was kissing _me_! She just appeared out of nowhere, and by the time I realized what was happening, you’d seen us. And then you were with Niylah... like _really_ with Niylah, _kissing_ Niylah... so I just figured that was what you really wanted...”

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she groaned, finally beginning to understand how things had spun so wildly out of control.

“Then you wouldn’t let me explain about Echo...”

“I didn’t think you _owed_ me any explanation! I mean... it’s not like we were... together like that. We were friends! And I just... assumed I hadn’t known about her...”

“There was nothing to know. But you and Niylah...”

“But then I explained all that last summer!”

“Yeah! You did. And I missed you so damn much that I was counting the hours until you got home. Then Echo showed up at my door out of the blue, even though we’d barely talked all summer...”

Clarke was beginning to see a pattern here. A frustrating one filled with misunderstandings and miscommunication.

“And I walked in and just... figured the two of you were still on.”

“Yes. And then you threw that new guy in my face.”

Clarke huffed a laugh.

“Cillian. Right. We went out a couple times, but there was always one big, big problem with Cillian.”

“Yeah? And what was that?”

She shrugged, her smile wry as she forced herself to be honest. “He wasn’t you.”

“ _Clarke.”_

The way he fairly breathed her name sent shivers up her spine.

“You know, I made a resolution this year, too,” she said softly, feeling the need to make a small confession of her own.

“Yeah?” Bellamy’s lips quirked up in a lopsided smile.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I resolved to finally... get over you.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath, saw his convulsive swallow.

“So... how’s that working out for you?”

“Not so well. In fact... I can’t see how I’ll ever be able to do it.”

“Thank god,” Bellamy sighed, reaching out to stroke lightly across her cheek, and Clarke suddenly felt like she could barely breathe.

“You know,” he said softly, his eyes glinting, his head bending closer, “I’m pretty sure I lost out on getting a New Year’s kiss last year. So I think I should definitely make up for that now.”

“Yeah?” The corners of her mouth turned up into a teasing smile. “But... I’m not sure it’s actually even New Year’s yet...”

“Close enough,” he murmured.

Then his lips were on hers, and Clarke finally understood that for all the times she’d wondered what it might be like to kiss Bellamy Blake, none of her imaginings had even come close to the real thing.

What started as a simple New Year’s kiss soon became deep and wet and open. Without ever removing his mouth from hers, Bellamy reached out, lifting Clarke easily, pulling her across him so that she was straddling his legs.

And then... _oh, the feel of him._.. beneath her, _surrounding her_. Sensation rioted through her.

Hands, arms, lips, tongue. All moving together until she was breathless with want, wet with need.

She pulled away, panting, and gazed down at Bellamy. He looked dazed, flushed with desire... and just slightly chagrined.

“I’m... sorry, Clarke,” he said, breathing hard, his hands still firmly locked around her. “Do you want me to... maybe I should go now.”

She blinked at him in surprise, before smiling saucily as she twisted her body, rubbing herself firmly along the hard heavy length she could feel beneath her.

“If you do, I’ll never speak to you again. But I _do_ think maybe we could... use a change of venue.”

She climbed off him, reaching down for his hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Are you sure?” he said, the words sounding just slightly strangled. Like maybe they’d been pulled out of him.

He seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

“Absolutely,” she told him, reaching up to kiss him softly. “Unless... you’d rather wait until _next_ New Year’s...”

Bellamy grinned, pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly.

“No chance.”

And even though their earlier New Year’s resolutions had been so utterly contradictory, Clarke found that she was now in complete agreement.

XXXXXXXXXX

It took them nearly two years, but when Clarke and Bellamy eventually decided to marry, they knew it couldn’t possibly happen on any day other than New Year’s Eve.

“You two are such sentimental saps,” was Murphy’s take when they announced the date. “But, hey! Who’s gonna pass up a free New Year’s party?”

The others just shrugged and agreed.

So in the end it was really only their vows that were surprising. The ones that they’d written themselves.

The ones that weren’t really vows at all. Or even promises.

But were instead _resolutions_.

Wherein they resolved to love one another very much. And forever.


End file.
